Potter's Portrait
by The Lady Rogue
Summary: "Oh not this moron again," Harry Potter snarked from within his portrait. Augustus Longbottom, Minister for Magic, smiled weakly at his visitor, Head Auror Boot. "Well I never," Boot spluttered. Potter rolled his eyes.


"Oh not this moron again," Harry Potter snarked from within his portrait. Augustus Longbottom, Minister for Magic, smiled weakly at his visitor, Head Auror Boot.

"Well I never," Boot spluttered. Potter rolled his eyes.

"Just as pompous as Terry was, back in my day," Potter continued. Augustus flicked his wand to silence the portrait, already well aware he'd get a long talking to when the spell wore off.

"We think something went wrong when the portrait was painted," Augustus informed Boot, who sniffed, and stuck his nose in the air.

"Hmph! Well Minister, I'm here with the reports of muggle baiting. We're down by 2% on cursed implants, which I think we can thank our mandatory safety briefings to Hogwarts' Sixth Years for, and…" Augustus zoned out Boot's droning to contemplate the Potter problem, only listening with half an ear so as to hum in agreement occasionally.

He'd met Harry Potter at one of Grandad's many family reunions, and he'd always been a sweet and caring old man, although still intimidating in his old age, and nothing like the portrait they'd had commissioned. Where had it gone so wrong?

"Sir?" Ah yes. Boot had finally run out of steam.

"Very good! Keep up the hard work," Augustus said. Boot puffed himself up with pride, and strode out the office. Augustus sagged in relief.

"I could have at least been painted with a snitch. Or a mug of tea… that would have been fantastic." Potter disturbed the momentary tranquillity, as usual. "And don't you silence my portrait again, you lot were the ones that commissioned it, and on your head fall the consequences." Augustus groaned, and rang a bell on his desk. Simultaneously, in one of the offices of the Department of Mysteries, another bell rang. Moments later Cassiopeia Malfoy marched into his office.

"Low blow!" Potter hissed, before turning to face the newcomer with a smile upon his face.

"Grandpa, have you been causing trouble again?" Malfoy asked.

"Hello Cassi, how are you?" Potter said, ignoring his granddaughter's question. Malfoy raised a brow. Potter pouted. "Cassi… you know how bored I get!"

"Why don't you go bother Dad? You're hardly ever in your portrait over there."

"All the house elves get over excited when they hear I'm occupying my painting."

"You like the house elves."

Potter huffed.

"Scorpius doesn't employ any imbeciles – there's no one there for me to mock." Potter said haughtily. Augustus winced.

"Exactly. So you can pop over and have a nice long chat with dad, and no one will interrupt you." There was a pause.

"But his portrait is there. He'll want to talk about feelings… and lemon drops." Potter grimaced. Augustus barely hid his snort of laughter.

"Fine. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way," Malfoy said, and tapped on an empty portrait frame. Severus Snape shuffled into view.

"What?" he snarled, then caught sight of Malfoy's blonde hair, and bright green eyes. His gaze softened.

"Oh, hello Miss Malfoy." His beady eyes settled on Potter's portrait.

"Causing trouble again, are you Potter? I see nothing has changed in the last hundred years."

"Nice to see you too, Professor Snape," Potter said in a strained voice. "I'll be off then. People to see, lemon drops and tea." Potter shuffled out of his portrait.

"Thank you," Augustus said to both portrait and person. Malfoy nodded and swept out the room.

"He was always like that, you know," Snape said.

"Really?" Augustus buried his head in his hands, and contemplated life without interfering war heroes.

"Certainly. Except he had a wand, and an invisibility cloak. Once a trouble maker, always a trouble maker." Snape sniffed and exited his frame. Augustus peeked between his fingers, checking that the rest of the portraits were asleep, then sighed.

Some days he wasn't sure becoming Minister was worth the trouble all the portraits gave him.


End file.
